


Breakfast at Tataru's

by quinnntessentially



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, As is tradition, Coffee Shops, F/M, First Touch Soul Bond Activate!, Fluff, G'raha is insecure, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, One chapter of Oops! One Bed, Pining, Soul Bond, Telepathy, musician wol, slaps fic, soul mates, this baby is so self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnntessentially/pseuds/quinnntessentially
Summary: Have you ever experienced a moment where you could have sworn that time has stopped? Where nothing else matters except the person in front of you? I felt the turn of the star beneath my feet and an instant became eon where all I could do was look into her emerald eyes and she looked into the sanguine hue of mine. In Tataru’s cafe, something extraordinary happened; a connection made, a bond formed.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19
Collections: Bookclub Top Trope Challenge (January 2021)





	1. Prologue - Someplace New

_ This memoir was written during my time while I, G’raha Tia, was working on my first non-fiction book on the early Allagan Empire. At the time, I was purely seeking a quiet, comfortable spot to write. Yet, Tataru’s Cafe became so much more; I found my future there and the future is where my destiny awaits after all. I remember the day I stumbled upon the quaint coffee shop:  _

Walking down the streets of Mor Dhona with my laptop bag slung over my shoulder, I’m window-shopping the various eateries hoping to find the perfect atmosphere for writing. I never do well working from home, instead always seeking someplace that provided the best aura for my mood at the time. Fortune smiled on me the day I peered into the display window of Tataru’s and was enticed by the smell of cinnamon rolls and coffee.

The door swings open with a cheerful jingle of its bell alerting the barista who greets me with a smile. My gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the aesthetic of the place. Cream walls accented by one brick enclose the space that is dotted with seating of various maroons and pinks. Rather than line the walls with booths, it seems the owner decided to make her restaurant a communal space. Groups of arm chairs and couches are put together with various coffee and end tables of black walnut.

I turn my attention to the stone counter where baked goods and coffee canisters are carefully laid out and the barista who greets me on entry stands smiling. Reading the menu chalkboards that are posted along the wall behind the counter, I consider my options and decide to give this place a chance to be my office away from home.

Cheerfully, the woman behind the counter takes my order. She’s a pretty thing, short in stature with emerald eyes and chestnut hair and fur.  _ Seeker like me _ , I think. Her ears are perked with genuine attention to me and interest in the idle conversation we make as I wait. With practiced hands, she takes my payment, brings me my food and with a grin wishes me a good day. I give a polite smile back and make my way to a comfortable-looking armchair tucked in a quiet corner near a bushy, potted plant. Grabbing my laptop from its bag, I set myself up and begin to ponder my book as I sip my latte. 

I type a sentence here and there. The process is slow, but I’m sure I’ll hit my stride soon. As I eat my cinnamon roll, I consider the words on my laptop screen and compare what I’ve written to my notes on my travels to various Allagan sites and the artifacts that I’ve observed. I’m incredibly lost in thought while I evaluate my progress and continue to add words to the page of my document that I don’t immediately notice the barista who served me earlier make her way across the venue to a corner opposite my own.

It’s not until I hear the loud mic interference through the cafe’s sound system that I truly note her change in position from employee to entertainment. It’s also not until she begins to play that I begin to pay attention. Fingers pluck notes from what appears to be a smaller guitar, its tone soft but not quite as deep as one would expect from a full-size guitar. Her eyes are closed, face serene, as her ears are turned just right so she can fine-tune her playing and finger position as she performs.

Once she begins to sing though, I’m entranced, lost in the sound. Her voice is soft and soulful, filled with hope and promise, it’s clearly apparent she sings from the heart. I’ve completely lost my train of thought on my book and fear that I’m staring too much, too intensely but I cannot stop. I’ve never heard such pure joy in musical performance in a small venue before. The first clue that my life had changed though wasn’t the lyrics, the melody, or the performance itself, as grand as it was. No, it was the beautiful smile she flashed at the crowd and the sudden thought that I’d do  _ anything _ to help ensure she smiles like that all the time.

Simple joys can bring about the most splendid of changes after all.


	2. Something There

I find myself returning to Tataru’s each day, hoping and praying to see her perform again. She has become a muse of sorts, simultaneously assisting me in completing my project whilst also being my biggest distraction. For when I arrive and wait for her to grace the cafe with her dulcet tones, my focus on my task is unparalleled but as soon as she arrives, it shifts entirely to her. I feel an inexplicable pull as if she were a siren and her song calls out to my very soul.

Of course, this sensation wasn’t limited to her music. Each time she is the barista on duty when I go to make my daily order, I feel a flutter in my chest, one I haven’t felt in a very long time. It is as if I am a love-lorn teenager all over again, seeking her attention at all times. The interactions between us are benign, nothing more than excellent customer service and yet, I yearn for more but cannot bring myself to even attempt to push past that boundary. 

Instead, our conversations remain simple, for example I’ll make my way through the door on any given morning to be greeted with a cheery, “Hello again!”

I’ll smile, too widely, too excitedly perhaps before returning the morning’s welcome and making my way to the counter. She’ll give me updates on the latest goods to be added to the menu and I’ll listen as intently as possible while basking in the positive aura that she exudes. 

Eventually she’ll ask me about the progress I’ve been making on my book. I’ll generically answer that I’m making headway but just like the Allagan Empire was not built in a single day, and as such I must remind myself that so too will not my book. No matter how much I’d love for that to be the case. Politely, she’ll giggle at the comment and begin to busy herself getting my order ready all the while humming. 

Once my food is ready, she’ll set it on the counter and I collect it with a smile and gentle appreciation before I return to my spot, well, what I’ve decided is now my spot. And so, days pass and I continue my vigil in my corner of Tataru’s Cafe sipping my chosen warm drink while writing and relishing in the music she shares. 

I wish I could properly convey just how her song affects me. It is as if I am a sailor of Amaurotine lore being lured to the depths of the sea by a siren’s song. The harder I resist, the stronger the pull becomes, much like a Doman finger trap. Only allowing myself to succumb to it gives me any relief from the ache I feel when it and she is not there. That is all while ignoring just how much I wish for her to notice me as more than a customer but, alas, I have not mustered the courage to move past pleasantries.

And so, this pattern continues of longing and lingering, waiting and hoping for something, anything to happen that’ll help me take the leap. Eventually, I learn her name, Wynn, which brings more questions to my mind. She’s clearly a seeker like me but lacks the tribal designation. Not that I’m judging but there’s a story there and any story she’s a part of I am intrinsically interested in. However, I quiet such thoughts and as part of a socially polite equivalent exchange, I offer her my own name; the more formal, reserved, G’raha. 

This tiniest of details changes our daily interactions though introducing more familiarity, friendliness. When the shop is slow, the exchange of goods happens at a much more relaxed pace, the both of us conversing with what I allow myself to hope to believe is enthusiasm. I learn small things about her. Her favorite color:  _ green _ . Her favorite season:  _ autumn _ . 

She tells me of her dreams of being able to live off of her music but ultimately she’s content spreading joy through it. Tataru offered her this job to help her get a leg up while allowing her to use down time to perform for an audience. Additionally, she rents the upstairs apartment so it's a very convenient location for her to work.

I collect these precious pieces of herself that she has deemed me worthy of knowing over the course of the next few weeks and I share information about myself in kind. Like how I studied Allagan History at Sharlayan University earning my Masters. I live across town but the comfort of the cafe keeps bringing me back and offers a much better place for me to work on my book. My favorite season is spring where the winter winds sweep away the cold and leave new life to sprout once more. I prefer the color blue but don’t feel as though I truly have a favorite color. I hope she finds such small things about myself as interesting as I find everything about her.

Her smiles, at least how I perceive them, seem more friendly than courteous, wider and more genuine. Our conversations flow more freely and less forced. I had hoped that becoming friends with her would be enough. That finding comfortable companionship with Wynn would be enough, but it does not still my beating heart. My soul yearns for more. It reaches out across the gap between us, pulling me with and I cannot figure out why.

That is, until one day, Wynn passes me my coffee and our fingers brush, electricity sparks, and my world changes in an instant. 


	3. Something New

_ Have you ever experienced a moment where you could have sworn that time has stopped? Where nothing else matters except the person in front of you? I felt the turn of the star beneath my feet and an instant became eon where all I could do was look into her emerald eyes and she looked into the sanguine hue of mine. In Tataru’s cafe, something extraordinary happened; a connection made, a bond formed. _

_ Ancient legends of our star have spoken of such things, but I never dared believe that they had been based on truth. Tales of lovers destined to meet. Their journey written in the stars. Those who are so in tune with each other that they become inseparable, stronger for being joined. Although I did not recognize it immediately, I would soon discover that such a bond is what we shared.  _ **_A soul bond._ **

A semblance of recognition flashes in her eyes as I feel a rush of confusion stronger than my own. Coffee tumbles between our hands, splashing the counter breaking the spell and she rushes to clean it up.

“Gods, I’m so sorry.” Grabbing the towel that was attached to her apron, she wipes up the mess, tossing the paper cup in the trash under the counter. “I’m such a clutz sometimes, it’s a wonder Tataru let’s me continue working here after I’ve wasted so much stock.”

The confusion I feel is suddenly replaced by embarrassment, concern, and anxiety. It’s a whirlwind of emotion not my own. She’s fretting, frantic with a blush creeping across her cheeks. 

“Wynn.” I grab her hand to halt her movements and feel a stronger surge of embarrassment and the intensity of emotions increases tenfold. I’m caught off guard and release her hand as if I’ve been burned with a gasp. “Wynn, it’s okay. No need to get so excited over spilled coffee.”

“I’m just incredibly embarrassed. I mean, I…” She stutters, tongue-tied refusing to let the words come out smoothly. Finally, she takes a deep breath. “I’m not usually this flustered. Sorry… let me get you another drink.” She turns to prepare to make another despite his protests that it was not necessary. 

_ I can’t believe I did that. How stupid do I look right now. A silly barista who can’t even hold onto a coffee properly. Really now, Wynn, get your act together. _

My ears perk as I hear her voice, there but not. “Uh, did you say something?”

“Hmm?” Without turning her back, she responds. “No, I don’t believe I did.”

“Ah, must have been my imagination…” _I could have sworn I heard her scolding herself._ _Perhaps I need to rest._

She stiffens as I muddle through my thoughts before speaking. “Rest is always a good idea. Especially if you think you’re hearing voices.”

Cocking my head to the side, I’m confused. First these wild and fluctuating emotions, now this? “I didn’t say anything about rest.”

“What do you mean? I heard you.” She turns to face me, fresh coffee in hand before shaking her head, chestnut hair falling in her face compelling me to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. “Nevermind, it’s been a weird day for the both of us I suppose.” With a cautious smile, she places the new cup in front of me on the counter, leaving no room for us to accidentally touch once more. 

Politely, I thank her for her service, flashing what I hope is an encouraging smile which she returns. “Really, Wynn, don’t worry. Spilled coffee happens to everyone. Remind me to tell you of some of my mishaps in undergrad working in the library.”

She nods and I take that as my sign to step away. As soon as my back is turned, my brow furrows as the emotions I had been feeling slowly ease away. Perhaps they truly were my own and I was letting my imagination run wild. Making my way to my usual spot, I walk fighting the urge to turn back with each step, the pull stronger than ever before. 

I pull my pastry out of its paper bag where it had been packaged with care and take a bite moaning in pleasure at its sweet, buttery taste and flakey texture. 

_ Gods, strike me down. Even the noises he makes are wonderful. _

Again, I hear her voice as if she were right next to me but I’m a good 10 yalms away.  _ Wait… _ It dawns on me what I thought I heard her say and my face flushes to match my hair. I look her way just to make sure that she is still at the bar. She’s looking at me but as soon as our gazes meet, she looks down at the counter uselessly wiping it down where it's already clean. 

_ And now he caught me staring. Wynn, get a grip.  _

I drop the pastry in surprise. I’m sure I heard her this time, although she did not speak. The gravity pulling me towards her continues to grow stronger and I have an idea.

_ Wynn? _

She freezes in place at the counter and looks in my direction, surprise and confusion etched across her face. The emotions I felt before begin to creep back into my being and I try once more.

_ Wynn, can you hear me? _

Her brow furrows, eyes staring at me as if I hold the answers to this mystery but I am as perplexed as she by this riddle. Finally, she silently responds.

_ What in the Seven Hells? _

My eyes widen as what I suspect becomes truth; the impossible becomes plausible. I look down at my laptop screen processing the new information whilst being bombarded with feelings not my own, I’m in shock. I’ve heard stories of such things in the past but that would imply…

_ Stop thinking so loudly, some of us are working! _

Her voice fills my head interrupting my last thought and I look up. She smirks briefly at me before trying to juggle the line of customers that just came in. I just shake my head at her antics and ability to calmly navigate whatever  _ this _ is. Attempting to keep my thoughts calm, I open a browser on my computer and do what I do best.  _ Research _ .

And so, I search for answers, anything to quell the storm of thoughts that I’m trying to drown out for Wynn’s benefit. Most of the morning is spent reading various articles on the mythos of soul bonds and mates, things only spoken of in legends from a time long ago. Ancient Amaurotine lore tells of how back when the world was new, people wouldn’t be bound simply by contract but by their very being.

I stare at my screen in shock, parsing the new information scarcely daring to believe that this is what is happening. I’m so distracted that I don’t notice Wynn make her way to the small stage, instrument in hand. I don’t hear her pluck the strings to ensure all is in tune and the sound system is functioning. No, my attention is drawn by not the performance but the overwhelming feeling of happiness that overcomes me as she begins.

Normally, I’m already enraptured by her song and how it seems to pour straight from her soul, but the metaphor has become reality it seems. With each line, each note I feel the pure emotion she evokes and conveys with an intensity I’ve never felt before. She plays through her set each song sending a different variation, combination of sentiment until finally, longing overcomes it all and floods my entire being.

I finally chance looking up from my screen and to my surprise I find her looking at me, singing for me. How had I never noticed earlier? Lost in my own thoughts and daydreams, I blinded myself to her hints and hopes. The moment becomes incredibly intimate and I find myself flushing under her gaze as if she is peering into my soul, seeing everything that I am.

Too soon or too long, I’m not sure how I feel when the song ends but it does and so too does her performance. With a quiet thanks and a quick smile to the audience in the cafe she dismantles the scene with practiced ease. This time though, instead of making her way to the room behind the counter she walks right up to me.

“So,” she begins, “what’d you think?”

I clear my throat and attempt to calm my heart. “Wonderful as always, Wynn. I dare say that someday you may be performing for even larger groups.”

“You’re flattering me.” Sighing, she takes a relaxed position on the couch near the armchair I’m seated in. “I’m done for the day and I believe we have things to discuss.” She continues nonverbally.  _ Like this. _

“You’re fairly calm considering you’re hearing my voice in your head and I’m hearing yours.”

“My life has thus far taught me to, you could say, just roll with it when these kinds of things happen.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side resting it on a closed fist. “Not that this is a frequent occurrence for me. So, Mr Masters Degree, I’m sure you’ve attempted to get to the bottom of this based on your  _ very loud thoughts and confusion earlier _ . What have you found out?”

“Well…” I wring my hands anxiously before picking up my laptop. “Now, don’t laugh but the only thing that I could find that explains this phenomenon is…” I turn the screen to face her. “...soul bonds?”

The goofy grin she had been teasing me with falls into a neutral expression as she reads the article I show her. I see her eyes quickly scan the web page outlining the details of soul bonds as the stories of eld describe them. Eventually, she releases a large breath and closes her eyes. “Can’t argue with that conclusion. How do you feel about this? If this is true, your soulmate is merely a barista in a small hole-in-the-wall cafe.”

“Is that how you see yourself?”

“You answer my question with a question?” Pausing, she searches my face. “I’m nothing special, G’raha. I don’t have a family to go back to and I live above the place I work because of Tataru’s kind heart and heavy discount on my rent.”

I hum considering my words before speaking. “When I look at you, I see a woman who dares to dream and follow those dreams. One who is kind and caring, works hard and doesn’t take things for granted. She who uses music to say the things that her heart dares to feel, spinning emotions into ethereal sound resonating into others’ souls.”

“That’s how you see me?”

“I don’t think I could lie about how I feel even if I wanted to with this… soul bond.” I find myself once more scratching the back of my head. Nerves setting in, just because I suspect such a thing doesn’t mean she truly believes it or even wants anything to do with it. “How are you feeling about this?”

“Honestly?” She chuckles slightly. “I’m pretty sure you had a taste of the thoughts I had about you earlier, so you tell me. The answer is I feel very lucky at the moment. You may or may not have been consuming my thoughts since the day we met.”

I can feel heat rise into my cheeks and my ears betray my bashfulness. “Well, if we’re speaking plainly, so have I.” I clear my throat again. “And I suppose, in light of all of…” I gesture vaguely between the two of us. “...this, perhaps we should give this a good old try. So, Wynn, would you like to…” I rub the back of my head, suddenly very tense. “Go on a date with me?”

Joyful laughter peals from her lips. “I’d love to.”


	4. Coffee Dates

The morning of our first date I am incredibly nervous, taking painstaking care during my normally quick greet-the-day routine. We had agreed that a simple coffee and treat at Tataru’s was an acceptable start. It is common ground for the both of us and has a comfortable atmosphere where we would both feel most at ease. I attempted to dress at least slightly nicer than normal, picking out one of my v-neck sweaters that were buried in the back of my closet and a straight cut pair of jeans.

I examine myself as I braid my hair back out of my face, well, as much of it that can be caught into a braid. Nodding in approval, I pat-check my pockets to ensure I have everything I need before leaving my apartment and make my way to the cafe. But first, there was one stop I wanted to make.

It’s been years since I’ve been on a date, never having much time in grad school but I do remember that it's important to make a good first impression. While I've already had a chance to make a first impression, I’d like to make a good second one during our first official date. The first of many I silently hope. 

Entering my first destination, the door’s bell jingles happily and my nose is assaulted by the aromas inside. The kind woman that runs the shop greets me with a smile, asks me what I’m looking for, and I explain my plans. I had thoroughly researched last night what I wanted and she quickly retrieves the item in question. Thanking her, I give her the payment in exchange and leave the shop. 

I gingerly clutch my purchase to my chest the entire rest of the way to Tataru’s Cafe hoping she’ll like it; or at least not consider it too much. As I get nearer, I can feel her presence make its way into my mind. Over the past few days between the bond’s discovery it has become a welcome feeling, a constant sense of companionship whenever we are close. Upon entering the establishment, I immediately see her in my corner, well maybe it's our corner now, watching the door. Waiting for me. 

A smile spreads across her face and I feel a warmth spread throughout my body. It's a comforting feeling knowing that she is as excited to see me as I am to see her and I hope she is filled with a similar sensation. Holding up two drinks and motioning her head as a signal for me to come over, I pass the service counter and head over to her side.

As soon as I’m within reaching distance, she passes me one of the cups. It’s aroma is unmistakable to me and I realize she ordered--perhaps even prepared herself--my usual, preferred drink. I smile at the thoughtfulness and give a quiet thanks before settling down in the armchair that has become unofficially mine. Sipping the coffee, I breathe a sigh of contentment before remembering I have something for her in return.

Carefully, I remove it from the packaging and hold it out to her and she smiles gently, taking it in hand. “I just thought, well, a bouquet might be too much and…” My now empty hand, quickly grips the coffee cup with its twin to keep it busy. “Tulips are supposed to represent hope, if I researched correctly and I just thought this purple was a nice color. I hope you like it.”

I watch as she sniffs the single flower, eyes closed and nose nearly touching the petals. When she opens her eyes, she speaks. “It’s lovely, really. But did you know there was a second meaning for the tulip?”

I begin to internally panic. Am I sending the wrong message? Starting things on the wrong foot despite my best efforts? She interrupts my internal monologue though with a laugh.

“Calm down, it’s nothing bad. Or… I don’t think it is.” Twirling the tulip between her fingers, she looks down at it. “Tulips also are representative of true love. Which considering what we suspect, while might not be what we feel quite yet, could very well happen in the future I suppose.” 

“You think so?”

She blushes. “I hope so.”

“I do as well.” A small smile appears on my face and I feel as though I look ridiculous, fawning over a woman I’ve only met in the last few weeks. Despite this though, we fall into easy conversation about small things; favorite foods, movies, books. Before transitioning to more personal items like family, friends, hopes, and dreams or even where we see ourselves in the future.

I learn of how she left her family due to high expectations for how she lives her life which explains the lack of tribal indicators in her name. They had attempted to arrange a marriage for her and that was the last straw, causing her to leave in the middle of the night with all she could fit in her backpack and instrument case. Only Tataru’s kindness kept her from sleeping on the Mor Dhona streets when she first arrived. Quietly, I enjoy my coffee while she tells me her story, unwilling to interrupt as she lays out her fears and concerns that still haunt her to this day.

In turn I explain my own past, much less difficult and much more typical. While I don’t interact with my tribe anymore I didn’t feel as though I needed to remove all ties. I simply had different goals and left to forge my own destiny. Working hard, I got full scholarships to undergrad and then worked as a teacher’s aid through my Masters. 

I tell her of the time I clumsily spilled my coffee, which was smuggled into the library against the rules, all over the books I had been referencing for my thesis. Oh how I had been scolded, never having been so embarrassed before in my life. She laughed as my face reddened at the mere memory of the event. The librarian on duty gave me an earful and I was charged with carefully ensuring the tomes were properly taken care of, restored to usable condition or replaced.

This devolves into a teasing fest from Wynn who questions how I’ve managed to maintain the integrity of my laptop despite drinking coffee every day with it in my lap. Clearly, fortune is smiling upon me, she says, as no harm has befallen the device. The joy radiating from her as she quivers with laughter, carefully ensuring she doesn’t spill her own drink on the pink couch warms me to the core. I relish in that such a simple conversation has set her at ease. Her comfort becomes my own.

These meetings become tradition, near daily. Whether before or after her shift, she’ll come join me, treat in hand and we’ll sit in companionable silence or share stories. Slowly, we learn more about each other and ourselves in the process. The mental bond grows stronger as well. I can feel her from further away from the shop and control the filter between us more effectively. We quietly communicate over the course of her work shift and I do my best to keep her sane during difficult moments with customers while she’ll return the favor assisting me with my writing. 

I’ve since moved from my original spot in the arm chair to the couch Wynn favors where we now sit side by side. She’ll lean against me, back to my shoulder as she reads a book and I work on mine. Together we merely enjoy the other’s presence. Occasionally, she falls asleep and I feel the flutter in my chest once more as I realize that she must truly feel safe around me to do so.

Tataru appears to approve as well. She showers me in freebies and friendly smiles making pointed comments of how she’s never seen Wynn so happy and content. At first I’m skeptical, but my eyes are opened to the truth when she next performs after that conversation. 

While her set is never completely sorrowful per se, it did have its moments of quiet and contemplation, introspection and observance. Today’s, though, is joyful, triumphant. Her smile is radiant and her delight reaches me through the bond and the mood is infectious. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more surprised by her though, she introduces her final song with a dedication to  _ someone very special _ . Suspicions rise to my mind that there’s a small possibility she’s talking about me,  _ but what if she’s not _ .

Her voice reaches silently across the space though, reassuringly, teasingly.  _ It’s you, you dunce. _

Laughing, I flash her a smile which she gently returns before shifting her instrument into position, clearing her throat, and releasing a breath. She closes her eyes before she begins and I could swear the café has gone silent. It feels as if it is just her and I, alone in Tataru’s establishment as she pours out her soul in song. 

In its simplicity, it speaks volumes. Words of hope, happiness, love are intricately woven amongst the melody she’s crafted. Rather than strum chords in rhythm, she’s opted to pluck individual notes in pattern to accompany her voice. The entire time I’m filled with a warmth, a joy that buzzes throughout my being. I feel as though I’ve been enveloped in a hug from afar and only when she finishes, letting the final notes ring into silence does the feeling fade.

It takes a couple of moments before I remember that there are others in the room with us, their applause slowly breaking through my trance. She kindly thanks the crowd and packs her ensemble then skips her way over to me, instrument case slung on her back. 

“Did you like it?” Her smile takes up so much of her face, her cheeks flush with excitement. Her beauty in her delight is overwhelming and just like the first time I saw her perform I feel this intense desire to ensure she always feels this way, smiles just like this.

At first, I’m lost for words and so I pull her into a hug, firm and tight. She must have been shocked because it takes a moment or so before she reciprocates. “I loved it.”  _ I love you. _

Panic briefly floods through me, I had forgotten she can hear my thoughts and I did nothing to mask them. She sends soothing waves back to me though and I feel her smile against my chest.  _ I love you, too. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to screech at me over here in the [Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic)! I promise it's filled with wonderful and kind people who will enable you and all your fanfiction needs / desires <3


	5. Firsts

My life had changed. Who knew that one woman could so drastically alter my perspective? I didn’t. I never dreamed of it. I dreamt of a family of my own, finding a mate to spend my life with but I never thought it would feel like this. It feels like home, warmth. It is the balm on a wound I didn’t even know I had. A soothing relief to find someone that I feel as though I could rely on at all times, to have my back no matter what.

Wynn is wonderful, a dreamer of impossible dreams yet never loses hope. She loves with her entire being, taking note of everything she can. I’ve never felt so seen by another person before. It’s intimidating yet incredible. I attempt to do the same for her; make her feel as I do, loved without condition always and forevermore. 

So many moments, no matter how small, are forever etched in my heart. For example, the first time she reached out to take my hand, leading me to our spot in the corner. Her fingers twined with mine feels just right. The smile she flashes back at me causes butterflies in my chest at the physical connection and I cannot help but stupidly grin back. No longer does she do all she can to avoid our skin from brushing instead doing all she can to be in constant contact. 

To be honest, I do the same. For there is no greater joy, than feeling her near me, physically and mentally.

* * *

Our first kiss is overeager, awkward, and joyous all at once. I realize I am late for an appointment and in my rush, forget the umbrella I brought with me due to the forecasted rain. I’m out the door of Tataru’s Cafe before she can call my name and I don’t even register the drops landing on me until I feel a tug on my arm. Turning, I spot her as she smiles at me from beneath my umbrella.

“You forgot this silly. You’ll catch a cold if you aren’t careful.”

I rub the back of my head sheepishly. “You’re right, what would I do without you to keep me in line?”

Taking a step forward, she lifts the umbrella to fit us both beneath its canopy providing shelter from the rain. With her free hand, she grips my shoulder pulling my face to hers, taking my lips in her, taking a leap of faith. I’m in shock but swiftly recover, pushing her body into mine, deepening the kiss and too soon, we separate. She’s the first to speak.

“Let’s not find out where we’d be without the other, okay?”

Gobsmacked, all I can do is nod and she grants me her gremlin grin that I love so much before waving goodbye and reminding that I have  _ very important places to be _ . I watch her go, longing to stay by her side and I could swear I could hear her giggles in my mind. What I can confirm is that as she walks, she sends a single message.

_ Love you, Raha. _

I smile even though she cannot see.

_ And I love you, Wynn. _

* * *

_ The first time we shared a bed though was most unexpected. A story that held multiple other firsts within as well. _

Wynn sprints up to me, excitement burning brightly like a fire in her eyes the moment she sees me enter the cafe. With a tight embrace around my middle she greets me and it's all I can do to not topple over due to her enthusiasm.

“Good morning to you, too.” Smiling, I hug her back. “Not that I mind, but what’s brought this on?”

“I just got word from that competition and they accepted my entry!” Flashing her biggest grin, I watch bemusedly as her feet pitter patter on the tile flooring of the cafe. “I’ve booked the hotel and I’m officially heading to Limsa Lominsa to perform for an actual crowd.”

“That’s great! When do you leave?”

Her movements slow and she looks to the ground. I can sense her embarrassment as she looks at the pattern her feet stand on. “Well, I was hoping that  _ we _ could leave two weeks from now?” She’s wringing her hands together nervously.

In an attempt to calm her, I place a hand on her shoulder, lifting her chin so her gaze meets mine. With a smile, I speak, “I’d love to accompany you on your grand adventure.”

The time passes by quickly, her excitement growing by the day. We go over details like her set list and clothing choices. She insists on everything being perfect. I merely think that with her on the stage, it always will be. She giggles under her breath each time such ideas cross the void between us. 

She practices endlessly and I ensure to help her maintain her voice with boundless amounts of tea, Tataru smiling at the two of us from behind the bar. She’s been incredibly supportive of Wynn and the idea of an  _ us _ , pestering me if we’ve made anything official. How does one explain the bond we have though? It feels as though it defies definition, beyond full understanding until one experiences such a thing themselves. 

No, for now we’ve been content without labels but I think my heart would soar if Wynn would choose to claim me as her own, allowing me to do the same in turn. Which leads us to the first time she called me by my given name rather than tribal.

“G’raha, what do you think of this?” She points to her most recent set list that she’s updated once more since we last spoke. 

“Raha.”

She hums a question, looking up from her notes.

I flush with the realization I had impulsively corrected her. It just feels  _ right _ to wish to hear her say my true name. “I just mean… What I’m saying is I’d like you to call me by my real name, if you’re comfortable with it.” 

A smile forms and she gently laughs. “Of course. Well then,  _ Raha _ , what do you think of this?” Scooting closer she holds the notepad between the two of us. Hearing her say my name causes a flutter in my chest and in my joy I reach around her shoulders to tug her into my side. 

“I think it’s wonderful.”

We sit like this for quite some time, her excitedly chattering away about each and every detail. She’s written an itinerary for us and has it all planned out. 

She pulls me up to her apartment after the cafe closes one day insisting I help her choose the perfect wardrobe for what she has dubbed her  _ debut _ . I’m not lying when I tell her that she’s beautiful in anything she chooses but she’s not having it. 

“You have to choose, Raha.”

_ I can’t though. _

She teasingly scowls at me.  _ You have to. _

I ask her to show me what she thinks is her favorite once more and she walks out in a deep v-neck blouse, not skin tight that shows skin but tastefully so. It’s paired with a pleated skirt that stops just above her knee. Bangles adorn her wrist and a thin silver necklace hangs from her neck pendant resting at her collar bone. 

“That’s it. It’s perfect.”

Looking down at herself, she bites her lower lip in thought. “You think so?”

I cross the room until I’m standing in front of her and I run my hands down the sides of her arms. Wordlessly, I send encouragement to drown out her concern. Passing all the strength I can muster to her over the bond.

_ Wynn _ . She looks up at me.  _ You will do wonderfully no matter what. Your music comes from the heart and that’s what makes it so special, so unique and endearing.  _

_ You think so? _

_ I know so. _

Her eyes search mine, looking for any hint of a lie but cannot find one. The bond lays bare the truth. Finally, she smiles a toothy grin and raises her arms and twines her fingers behind my neck.

_ How did I get so lucky to not only meet you, but also be able to call you mine?  _ Leaving no time for me to respond, she leans in and pulls my lips to hers. The action is filled with need, desire reaching across the bond causing the kiss to deepen, grow passionate, desperate. Wrapping her in my arms, hands resting on her back, I pull her body into mine needing to close the gap between us completely and she eagerly complies.

I feel her hands run through my hair, tugging the braid out and her nails brush my scalp as mine slide further down. We break for air, gasping, panting.

Her chest heaves and I cup her cheek in my hand. “I believe I’m the lucky one.” 

The last few days before the trip fly by, all details having been ironed out and approved by Wynn with my encouragement. Together we travel to Limsa Lominsa. The journey is long but memorable. It's comfortable taking the train, sharing a bench with my arms wrapped around her as she watches out the window. She excitedly takes in the sights as we pass them and it’s all I can do to watch her with what I’m sure is a silly grin on my face. 

The day before the event we arrive at the hotel she booked and she drags me behind her as I lug the luggage cart along. She’s basically skipping along eyes darting between each new thing she encounters until we reach the reception desk where we receive the key to our room. Walking hand in hand, we make our way to our temporary shared space.

With a flourish, she produces the key card, flashes a smile in my direction, and unlocks the door. It silently glides open with a gentle push and reveals…

...one bed.

Confusing and terror permeate the bond as Wynn realizes the situation at hand. Quickly, she reaches into her bag and pulls out the room information.

“Oh gods.” Her head whips in my direction. “I wasn’t thinking when I booked this place. I’m so used to travelling alone. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for a separate room if you’d prefer, I can’t believe…”

“Wynn, stop. I’m fine with this if you’re comfortable sharing the room. I can sleep on the floor if that’s better for you and if you’d rather have separate rooms, I can pay for myself.”

“No!” She purses her lips. “I mean, no… we can share the room. Honestly, I’d rather you have the bed since it was my mistake.”

“How about this?” Suddenly feeling bold, I give a devilish grin and whisper in her ear. “We could share the bed.” 

I feel her shiver as my breath brushes her ear. “I could get behind that.”

“Splendid.” I yank the luggage cart into the room and pull her in with me shutting the door with a less than gentle thud. She lets out a squeak as I scoop her up, pinning her between the wall and myself. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Her tone teasing, smile spreading on her face as she recovers from the initial surprise at my actions.

“Can’t I show my girlfriend just how much I care?”

Humming, she poses as the perfect picture of pensiveness. “I suppose I can allow it.” Wrapping her arms behind my neck and legs around my waist, she pulls the tie from my hair letting the strands fall free.

“You really like my hair, huh?” I tease as I bring my lips to her neckline, slowly weaving kisses and nips as I make my way to her earlobe.

A laugh turns into a moan as I begin my ministrations along her sensitive skin and when she recollects herself, she responds silently,  _ Shut up, _ and threads her fingers through the crimson strands. 

I go to turn my attention to the other side of her neck, but she’s quick to take my lips with her own using her hands to guide my face to hers. She’s gentle at first but as the passion over the bond builds it becomes more intense, hungry. I’m the first to push past the boundary of lips with my tongue, seeking entrance and when she grants it I explore with fervor. Too soon, it feels, we break for air, though.

_ Shall we take this to the bed? _ I inquire with far less bravado than I had earlier. Knowing this is a first step that she needs to be just as ready for as I am. Elation courses through me when she responds after a worrying silence.

_ Gladly _ .

This is a first though, whose details will remain between just Wynn and I.

* * *

The most important first though was the moment I realized that I could not live a life without her and as such, I would have to ensure that would never happen.

The thought occurs to me as I watch her from the audience performing brilliantly, masking the nerves that only I know are there due to the bond we share. I continue to give encouragement back in tenfold. Eventually though, she settles in and feeds off the energy of the audience. She gives little stories about each song and how she came up with them as she prepares to perform them; anything to keep the rhythm of the act from dying. 

She conveys emotions effortlessly. I realize that may sound biased considering how easily I can tell her intentions but the crowd easily follows along. The notes rotate through somber and sorrow, to joy and jubilation and the audience responds in kind. Finally, she reaches the final song of her set. One that I haven’t heard before and she prefaces it with a story.

A story of how she met someone very special to her, someone who showed her how much she is worth, someone she never wants to let go or part from and with a gentle mental nudge she begins. The song resonates deeply within me, pure joy and happiness, longing finally sated by the presence of the perfect person. It is her way of telling me that she appreciates me as much as I appreciate her. She pours every onze of emotion she can into this final performance and when the last note fades the crowd stands in ovation. When she rises to bow, she takes a quick look in my direction and flashes her signature toothy grin.

This is the moment I knew, I had to marry this girl.


	6. A Breakfast at Tataru's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a song I listened to on repeat while writing the latter half of this chapter. [Here](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=nL-uzN_NEvA&feature=share) it is if you're interested in listening to it as well! It's one of my favs <3

Wynn doesn’t realize it but my days have gone from focusing on my book to focusing on the best way to propose. No longer is my laptop being used to write my book, but rather research, plan, determine the best course. I want this to feel special. I want this to feel right. 

I’m terrified.

I’m thrilled.

Anticipation and anxiety course through me as I attempt to figure everything out. Fortunately, a small blessing appears in the form of Tataru, Wynn’s boss.

I haven’t talked very much about Tataru but Tataru is an intimidating woman for one of such short stature. She’s hard-working and diligent, incredibly kind and helpful. She’ll tell you what she thinks if she believes you need to hear it and I can say from experience that I frequently got such advice from her over the last few weeks prior to this decision.

To be honest, I believe she’s been hoping I’d propose to Wynn within weeks of our discovery of the soul bond, not that Tataru is privy to such information. She’s just  _ very perceptive _ of how the two of us interact which led to her pestering me each morning that Wynn is not behind the counter with questions about our  _ relationship _ . Her investment in us though would prove to be quite handy though as her presence gives me an idea.

I arrive on a day that I know Wynn is out. Not just not working and home in her apartment upstairs, but she has an appointment and as such nothing should leak over the bond to ruin the surprise I wish to orchestrate. I approach the counter, as casually as I could, attempting to keep my clammy hands from shaking to betray my nerves.

Tataru, bless her, greets me cheerily with a quip of, “Your usual, G’raha?”

“That’d be wonderful, thank you.” I pause, steeling my nerves. “However, I do have another request if you don’t mind.”

She doesn’t turn to look at me, instead continuing her work to prepare my order. Rather she shouts back, “Of course! Anything for you, dear.”

“I could use your help to…” My throat constricts, heart clenches. I have yet to utter the words out loud. The moment feels surreal, as if I were to speak my intentions I’d wake up from the most wonderful dream to a reality where none of this has happened. But, if I were to make this dream real, I must take this step. I close my hands into tight fists at my sides and close my eyes. “I wish for your assistance in proposing to Wynn.”

“Oh! Is that all?” She turns around, my latte in her hand. Setting it down on the counter in front of me, I stare stupidly at it. How does she make such a momentous event seem so trivial? One that will not only change my life, but Wynn’s? 

As such, all I can respond with is a feeble, stutter. “Is… Is that all?”

“She’ll say yes no matter what you know. Whenever you’re not here she gushes non-stop. I swear her thoughts are consumed by you. I’d be concerned if you didn’t help her so much. I’ve never seen her more confident in herself.”

“Your confidence in her answer is inspiring, however I’d still like your assistance in this. I don’t want this to just any proposal, I want this to be special, memorable. Because Wynn deserves it. She deserves so much.”

“Fortunate for you, I’ve been thinking about this since the two of you finally got together.”

“That long?”

“Even before then she wouldn’t stop talking about the gorgeous red-haired man who ordered the same latte each morning.”

Looking down I rub my left forearm with my right hand, ears pressed against my head in embarrassment. “Be that as it may, I want to surprise her which is incredibly difficult as we spend so much time together and I’d rather not cause her distress by decreasing that amount. I have the beginnings of a plan that I’d be happy to help with for the most part, but could use your assistance to finalize.”

She smiles widely. “Tell me all.”

So we become co-conspirators carefully drafting the perfect proposal plan. I share one element that I had already considered and she grins approvingly.

“That’s perfect. I’m sure she’ll cry seeing that. But have you considered...”

And it goes on like this, us exchanging ideas, carefully crafting the perfect day, the perfect moment based on what we know of her. Tataru plans to have the cafe shut down for the day and describes quite the feast to celebrate over that she’ll prepare herself. Taking notes on my notepad, I nod along with her ideas and make note of what must be gathered to pull this off.

There is one major facet that I have to facilitate on my own though. 

For years I’ve held onto an item, one passed through my family; a simple ring, ruby at its center and band decorated with small diamonds along it. The white gold band meets the main gemstone not at its center on either side but rather one side wrapping along the top, while the other wraps along the bottom. It supposedly meant something way back in the family line, but its secrets have been lost to the ages, lost with Allag as it would seem as well with the supposed ties my family had to any of its royalty.

Regardless of the ring’s history, I cannot imagine giving it to anyone else. There is only her, only Wynn. Imagining the heirloom taking permanent place on her finger, marking her as mine--if she will have me--starts a flutter in my chest. With a plan in mind, it all suddenly feels very real but with a deep breath I gladly look to the future, to my destiny.

The weeks between developing the full plan with Tataru’s assistance and the actual day of the proposal feel simultaneously painfully slow and terrifyingly fast. I cannot wait but I’m incredibly nervous. The anticipation and excitement consumes me causing Wynn to give me questioning looks during her shifts over this period. I assure her that I’m just content with the progress I’ve been making on my book. Internally wincing, I hope she can forgive my lies in an effort to grant her a memorable surprise.

Our bond only seems to grow stronger as well. Even from my apartment I can get glimpses of her feelings and when either of us really tries we can hear each other’s thoughts, send comforting messages. It becomes routine to wish her a good night when we don’t spend it at the other’s home and each time I receive a gentle, content response.

The day before  _ the day _ I ask her if she’ll meet me at the cafe in the morning and she chuckles lightly.

“What, as if we don’t near daily anyhow? Of course I’ll come silly.”

My eyes roll at her teasing. “Humor me, will you? Wynn, will you go on a breakfast date with me? Here? Tomorrow?”

“Always, Raha.”

“Wonderful.” I squeeze her into my side and she just shakes her head at my antics, returning to the book she was reading. Focusing back on my laptop screen, I do all I can to keep my thoughts drifting to tomorrow. If I’m unsuccessful, she doesn’t react at all instead snuggling in closer to me idly as she turns the page of her book. 

It’s quiet moments like this that reassure me that she’s the one.

The morning of, I arrive exceptionally early to do any and all to help Tataru with the meal, setting up decorations, and setting the table where we’ll eat. It’s simple really, nothing incredibly extravagant but I think the effort is worth it. My gaze pans the room before I nod, pleased with my work. 

We’ve dimmed the lights and drawn the curtains for more dramatic lighting. Then, while Tataru worked on cooking the meal I set up many candles of varying sizes throughout the cafe casting a warm glow throughout the building. I check the time and see that she’ll be arriving soon. And so I scurry to where she normally sets up for her performances and I pick up my own instrument, an old guitar I had picked up during my college years. Settling on a stool, I quickly ensure the strings are in tune and pluck a few notes and wait. 

The bell on the entrance jingles happily like it did all that time ago when I first opened it to lay my eyes on her and my heart leaps. She looks around in confusion before finding me in her spot and raises her eyebrows in confusion. My response is to begin playing before I back out.

It’s a soft song, fingerpicking mixed with strummed chords. My voice wavers as I begin the vocals but soon I settle in and grow more confident. The lyrics speak of hope, happiness, and looking to the future and I do my best to incorporate my own feelings of love and joy into the notes I sing as she does and I admire her for. 

I’m so busy watching my fingers to ensure I hit the right notes that I don’t notice her tears at first. I feel a rush of emotion, a mixture of elation and excitement, overwhelming happiness as well as disbelief but it’s not until I look up at the end of the song as the notes ring out fading into silence that I see her standing in front of me, hands over her mouth and eyes wide. Shaking, I set my guitar down gently and make my way to her. 

“Raha, what..?”

She doesn’t finish her question before I silently kneel in front of her, taking her left hand in mine. Looking up at her, my heart is full, happy, excited, and a little scared. I quietly clear my throat attempting to mask tears of my own.

“Wynn, there are stories recorded throughout history of love that defies all boundaries, all reason. Love that people only dream of encountering, of experiencing. When I first entered this little cafe I didn’t expect my life to change but here you were and there I was in the doorway when our paths first crossed. I might not have known it then, but I had found my other half, the person that allows me to experience such a love.

“But then you further surprised me that day with your music which so thoroughly and completely shows the beautiful nature of your soul and I knew I was lost. Days passed and the magnetic pull drawing me towards you grew ever stronger until we finally touched and all became clear. Wynn, I truly believe you are my soulmate and I hope beyond all hope, pray to all the gods that you feel the same way.

“There is no greater joy than basking in your presence and I wish to do so for the rest of my life. Together, we can write the world’s greatest love story, one with joy and laughter, an unbreakable bond. We can go on life’s greatest adventure, hand in hand. And so, I formally ask you today. Wynn?”

She nods as she wipes her eyes with her free hand and I smile reassuringly at her.

“Will you do me the greatest of honors and grant me the greatest of joys by marrying me?”

There’s a silence between us for but a moment, but that moment feels like an eternity where all I can hear is the crackling of the candles lit around the room. I watch as she looks down at me, teeth biting her lower lip before finally,  _ finally _ , she nods.

“Of course, Raha. It’d be my pleasure.”

The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding rushes out of my lungs as a grin quickly spreads across my face. I bring out the small box containing the ring and present it to her.

“May this ring be a symbol of our love, of mine for you.” I slide it onto her ring finger and miraculously it’s a perfect fit. “From this day forward our destinies are intertwined, I am yours and you are mine.”

“It’s beautiful, wherever did you find it?”

I smile at her “It’s a family heirloom, passed through the generations. But, if I may be so bold, I believe it might have found it’s proper home with you. With us.”

“I think you may be right,” she whispers. 

Releasing her hand, I stand up and step closer to her, face inches from her own as I rest my forehead on hers. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive.” Taking her lips in mine, I grip the back of her head firm but gentle as I attempt to share all the joy and love I feel in this moment which she returns over the bond. It’s a curious thing really, when our emotions are in sync like this. It’s dizzying, wonderful, and splendid; a constant feedback of reassurance and care. 

This rush of emotion pushes the kiss from chaste to passionate, our tongues breech past the other’s lips, exploring and needy. One of my hands presses into the small of her back attempting to close any microscopic distance between our bodies all while her arms wrap behind my neck attempting to lift her face properly up to my height. We melt into each other’s embrace and mentally whisper sweet nothings and promises of the future.

The kiss ends though, much to each of our reluctance and chests heaving we stare into each other’s eyes, her emerald and mine crimson before we both break out into wide smiles and joyful laughter. The door of the kitchen opening draws our attention away from ourselves and we turn, still in lovers embrace, to see Tataru carrying our meal, eyes filled with tears of her own.

“I told you, G’raha, she’d love this.”

I laugh jovially at her teasing remark as we make our way to the table I set up earlier. Pulling out a chair for Wynn, with a gaudy flourish I indicate for her to sit down which she smiles at and grants a small bow in an effort to play along. Once I’m seated, Tataru brings over the plates, setting them in front of us before explaining the meal she had created before giving us a gentle smile and exiting the room.

And so, together Wynn and I toast and talk. I will forever look fondly back on this day and the entire time leading up to it. For how was I to truly know that a simple decision to stop at this small cafe in Mor Dhona would change my life forever. It was here that I found my future after all and while my life has already been drastically altered, there is much more to come. Truly, the future is where my destiny awaits after all but such events started here in a simple but wonderful manner over breakfast at Tataru’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! I finished my challenge fic! Thank you all who have read or will read, I appreciate each and every one of you <3 If you haven't already, do consider checking out the other fics in the collection as well! There are so many good ones :D


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